


The Molotov Cocktail

by hummingbirds2



Series: Project Team Beta Writing Challenge 2013 [2]
Category: Southern Vampire Mysteries - Charlaine Harris
Genre: Gen, Humor, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-23
Updated: 2013-01-23
Packaged: 2017-11-26 16:02:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/652012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hummingbirds2/pseuds/hummingbirds2
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jane Bodehouse has an epiphany.  Set in Deadlocked.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Molotov Cocktail

**Author's Note:**

> PTB Writing Challenge 2013  
> Challenge Number/Title: 2/The Empty Glass  
> Dated Posted: 23 01 13  
> Fandom: Southern Vampire Mysteries  
> Rating: PG  
> Genre: Canon (Deadlocked)  
> Content Descriptors: Hurt/Comfort/Humour  
> Character Pairing: Jane Bodehouse  
> Beta’d By: All About Eric (thank you very much, especially for your comma patience x)

She washed and she moisturised.

She clipped and she plucked, eyebrows and chin.

She brushed and she sprayed every last strand of her silver-streaked hair into submission.

The woman eyed her face in the mirror, first one side and then the other _.  Not good, but not too bad_ , she thought, _considering_.  Her cheekbones were still to die for, as sharp and defined as her lips were soft and full. She hadn’t been crowned Miss Red River Valley or Miss Razorback or Miss Renard Parish for nothing.  Oh no!  She’d been a real looker, with a face and figure that drove many a man to distraction or erection, and many a woman to envy or something else, if that’s the way they rolled.

But that was then….

And in between then and now, there had been.…

Usually Jane Bodehouse didn’t bother to look in the mirror.  Why would she? She’d seen her reflection plenty, in the bottom of an empty glass.  That told her all she needed to know.   It was like that old 80’s song, the one she sang along to at the bar sometimes, that said -

“My life’s a mess I wait for you to pass;I stand here at the bar; I hold an empty glass.”  

Of course, she rarely stood for long at the bar; sitting was safer and meant she could enjoy her home away from home, Merlotte’s, for longer - without being ejected.   Nicely ejected, of course, but still removed for her own safety and everyone else’s comfort.  That’s the way it was. 

And nobody cared what Jane Bodehouse looked like.  Well, maybe Marvin, her long-suffering son, cared, but Jane knew she was more trouble to him than she was worth sometimes.   Today though, Jane cared and she took time over her appearance.  She knew how to primp and preen; it had just been a while … a long while. 

As Jane turned towards the closet, she caught a mirrored glimpse of herself, upright in her underwear.  She had to admit that, along with her hopes and dreams, her figure had gone south sometime over the years.  She shrugged a little. On the upside, all those liquid lunches and dinners meant she was still slim, and in the right outfit….  

Jane pulled out a dress – the only one in her closet.  Its style was all Louisiana - no sleeves, fitted under the breasts and across the belly till it flared out to float around the legs.  There was a simple bolero jacket to match.  She couldn’t remember buying it, or the dress for that matter, but they looked clean, and both items were actually hanging up, uncrumpled.  That was a miracle. Jane took it as a sign and wriggled into the dress, smoothing the soft fabric down carefully, before putting on a pair of comfy flats.  Jane liked flats. This pair looked a little scuffed, but they were her lucky ones.  Or at least, they found their way home with her in them, most of the time. 

Jane regarded herself in the full length mirror. _“_ My legs don’t need heels,” she murmured to nobody there. “They still go all the way right up to my ass. Even if that ass’s got a bar stool imprint on it.”  Jane shook her head. “No more.  No bar stools for me.  I’m gonna sit in the light from now on.”

Next, Jane rooted around in the mound at the bottom of her closet.  She felt a little surge of surprise at her actions.  She was even surprised that she felt surprise.  Jane hadn’t felt anything much for … a long while. The contents of all those glasses she’d emptied had kept her numb.  Just the way she’d liked it.  Until now, it seemed.  Now here she was, hunting for a matching purse!  _Gonna be all matchy-matchy and be happy about it ‘n all._ She giggle-snorted to herself.

Jane knew it’d been that near-death experience at Merlotte’s that had done this.  When that Molotov cocktail smashed through the window in a hail of glass, right next to her, all hell had broken loose. Well, fire, if not hell! And it was like she’d seen the light, and not just the flames burning bright.  Somehow, she’d broken loose from her permanent daze and re-inhabited her body.  She’d felt things too.  She’d felt pain from the cut on her head and panic from the noise and heat, but her mind had felt clear and bright. Amazing!  She’d been able to escape, once she’d found her feet, lickety-split.  Yeah, she’d done real well. What a night!

Jane smiled as she pulled out a peachy clutch that still remembered its original shape.  A bit like she did now.  She remembered what it felt like to be alive.  Yes, after that Molotov-cocktail night, Jane realised she’d been ‘dead’ for years and years and years.  She didn’t know how it had happened exactly.  But after she’d loved a man who’d left her in a world of broken promises with a broken heart and a son, one comforting glass, drunk to lift the mood or deaden the pain, had led only to an empty glass.

And that empty glass had led to another glass to empty, and a bar stool for a home away from home.  Miss Renard Parish had fallen, and fallen hard.

Feeling a little sad for things that couldn’t be changed, Jane sang her anthem under her breath, while filling the clutch.

“I've been there and gone there, I've lived there and bummed there, I drank there and I gave there.  I've had enough of the way things have been done.”

It wasn’t exactly how the song went, but it was how Jane remembered it. 

“You alright in there, Mom?” she heard Marvin ask, from outside her bedroom door. 

 _Am I alright_? 

Jane looked at herself in the mirror again, and was pleasantly surprised. Someone, neat and tidy, with clear-ish eyes stared back.  She patted a stray strand of hair back into place, feeling the tenderness of her scalp beneath.  Just above her hairline, a fading scar was all that remained of the slash she’d taken on the night of the bombing.  Jane didn’t mind.  It was her permanent reminder that she was alive and that her life could be gone in an instant.   She’d been real lucky that night. She nodded at her reflection in affirmation. 

That night, Lord Almighty, she’d been shaken up.  And just in case it had been the Lord himself, giving her this chance to get back into the land of the living, Jane was going to thank him for it, every day for the rest of her life.  She would pray for forgiveness for her weakness, and for strength to live better too.

Marvin tapped at the door.  “Mom? You know, you can’t be late.  You ready to go?” 

“Sure, honey,” she said, through the door.  “Meetcha at the car.” 

“Okay.  But don’t be long.”  Marvin’s footsteps receded down the hall. 

Jane wet her lips.  She was ready.  She wouldn’t be worshipping on a bar stool today. 

She grabbed her jacket.  It was time for that new start.

* * *

Jane sat in the light.  This was her new spot - at the table by the window in Merlotte’s.  No bar stool – no way.  In the day, the sunlight shone in and she could look out.  She never knew who she might see or what might happen.  At night, the lighting over the car park made any life outside seem even more interesting.   

Inside, Pete Townsend was singing her song, The Empty Glass, on the old jukebox.  She listened, as she watched the world outside the window. 

“Don't worry, smile and dance  
You just can work life out  
Don't let down moods entrance you  
Take the wine and shout.” 

Well, she didn’t have wine. 

Bud Light would have to do. She looked into her glass, prayed for strength and then forgiveness for this weakness.  She thanked the Lord for the day, raised her glass in salute and Amen, and then sipped.  That homage done, Jane resumed her watch out the window.  She didn’t want to miss Sookie’s arrival.  Today, this was her job.  She was being relied upon by her friends, here at Merlotte’s, to give them the heads-up when Sookie arrived.  It was Sookie Stackhouse’s Surprise Birthday Party, and she, Jane, had been invited.  

Yes, life was good.  Jane had done with drowning her sorrows.  From now on, every day would be a celebration, and every celebration needed a toast. Right? 

“To life,” Jane said to herself, happily. 

She emptied her glass! 

The End

* * *

Lyrics from Empty Glass on the Empty Glass album by Pete Townshend 1980

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Thank you to Charlaine Harris for letting me play with her wonderful characters from the Southern Vampire Mystery Series.


End file.
